


I Will Watch Over You

by Madamegoethe



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Post-Apocalypse, Sick Character, Sick Fic, crowley cares so much, nanny astoresh has found her new calling, soft Crowley, these two idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 18:18:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19706854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madamegoethe/pseuds/Madamegoethe
Summary: They have spent every day since the Nopocalypse together, but today, Aziraphale isn't down in his shop.So Crowley does the logical thing. He panicc. He snarcc. He protecc.





	I Will Watch Over You

**Author's Note:**

> This is in no way beta'd, proofread or even edited by myself, so I'm extremely sorry for any mistakes I've made - But Yes, I'm going to keep writing slightly drunken and extremely soft fics about these two idiots until this show will have lost its hold on me - which will not happen for a while, so sorry not sorry

„Aziraphaaaale, I brought lunch!” Crowley’s voice rung through the sunlit bookshop.  
It’s been five weeks since the Nokpokalypse and four weeks since the Angel of the Eastern Gate and the Demon who only vaguely sauntered downwards had told their respective bosses in a very certain, however metaphorical way, to fuck the fuck off and stay out off their lives on earth.  
And so they had.  
And it’s been three weeks and six days that Crowley had visited Aziraphale in his bookshop every single day – or that the Angel had visited Crowley in his flat (though the other way around was far more likely)  
Everyday, they did something together, however miniscule it may have been, going out for a walk, feeding ducks, sharing ice cream, reading the newspaper in St. James’s park, dining together, whatever it was, they were always there, it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of them.  
Tending to the wounds of the Nopocalypse  
But, apparently, not today  
“Aziraphale?!” Crowley shouted, once more, his voice now tinged with a hint of panic as he let the steaming takeaway curry in his hands drop carelessly drop onto a stack of papers – a subconscious action, no doubt, for had the angel been around indeed, THAT would have brought him storming around the corner in no time

“Azira…Angel!” Crowley half growled, half moaned and tasted the air with his tongue, tasting his new cologne in the air with a rush of relief and taking the steps to Aziraphale’s rarely used bedroom in two’s, the scent of his angel (wait, his angel? And when did he memorise Aziraphale’s new cologne?) getting stronger.  
Without bothering to knock, as was his custom, he burst into the room, shouting “Aziraphale, you daft Angel, what are you doing up here? I thought you were…oh” and he stopped dead in his tracks

Aziraphale, the very man, well, Angel, who had always chided Crowley for his love of taking naps and prided himself on never sleeping, lay in a bed made out of mostly cushions. And he looked miserably  
“Crowley my dear” he croaked “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you coming, I’m afraid I’m..” but he didn’t get much further, for a severe coughing fit took hold of him and rendered him literally speechless.  
For a few seconds more, Crowley couldn’t do more than to stare.  
His angel lay there but he was all wrong. He wasn’t smiling and sturdy and fluffy. He was pale and fragile and…and…no, this wouldn’t do AT ALL!

“Angel” Crowley said, stepping nearer, worry etched on his forehead “what is wrong with you?”  
“Oh it’s silly” Aziraphale tried a weak smile “just the sniffles my dear, best you keep away for a bit or you will catch it as well, it is, I’ve been told, a pesky human illness that is best treated with rest, tea and warmth. I’m sorry If I had you worried” he sniffed again, looking at the demon with dewy eyes.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale, then at the the nightstand, then back at Aziraphale again.  
“Right” he said. And then, again “Right”  
And then he turned around and left  
Aziraphale sighed and sunk back into his pillow-fort  
Two minutes later, however, Crowley reappeared, clad in a set of black satin pajamas, a book in one hand and a cup of steaming hot tea in the other

“Crowley?” the angel enquired, rather flabbergasted  
“Well I just thought…warmth, tea…” he shrugged “might want a bit of company?” and, blushing a bit, he gestured to himself as best he could do with his hands full  
If Aziraphale’s cheeks heated slightly, he would forever put that on his fever  
“I..oh…I mean..it’s..I don’t mean to inconvenience you and, also, this infect, it’s supposed to be quite…” he murmured, not being able to look at Crowley's bloody satin pajama, why did the blasted demon always have to go so over the top, dammit?!

“Oh, shove it, Angel, and make room!” Crowley simply said and slithered underneath the sheets next to Aziraphale “You know, you could just say “Thank you” and be done with it”  
Aziraphale sneezed.  
“Well, I guess I’ll have to take that for now” the demon smirked and handed the Angel a steaming hot cup of herbal tea with lemon and honey, swinging an arm around him in the process “Drink it while it’s hot, I may or may not have mixed a special ingredient into it”  
Aziraphale arched an eyebrow at him. “To make you better you daft thing – don’t you trust me?!” Crowley snarled, but Aziraphale could definitely hear a hurt undertone, and even though he still wasn’t sure whether he, whether anyone, in fact, should drink something that Crowley had mixed together, he angeled up and gulped as much down as he could.  
To his amazement, he felt a tingling warmth spreading within him that felt so utterly healing, cosy, and relaxing, that he had a hard time staying awake.

“There, that’s it Angel” Crowley shushed him while he felt his head sinking onto the demon’s shoulder “You go sleep yourself back to being sane and sound and I’ll read you a story, how’s that, eh?!”  
Aziraphale could merely give a satisfied grunt, his head now comfortably rested on Crowley’s shoulder and his eyes already half-closed as the demon began to read:

“He walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that’s best of dark and bright”

“Crowley, `m dear” the Angel slurred sleepily and high on demonic medication “Tha’s no…tha’s no how it goes”  
He looked up at the demon and could have sworn he saw Crowley smiling when he said  
“Oh Angel, but that’s how it goes for me. Sleep now and get better” The kiss on his forehead though, right before he fell into a deep sleep, he surely, SURELY, imagined

When Aziraphale awoke again, he had no idea what day it was or how much time had passed. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, felt his chest, breathed freely, blinked in confusion, felt the empty spot beside his…then rushed to dress himself and ran down the stairs  
There was a huge table with two seats amidst his bookshop, and on top of that table was a mountain of fresh crêpes covered in crème and fresh strawberries, and, beside that, a cup of steaming hot cocoa and…an opened first edition of Lord Byron’s poems, apparently heavily edited.  
“Oh Crowley” Aziraphale sighed, clutching his hands together  
“You called?” drawled the demon, swaggering out from the back of the shop, as if he had nothing to with anything whatsoever, yet not being able to hide a nervous grin  
“You feeling better then?”

“Yes” Aziraphale choked out “Yes I…Crowley, I know you don’t like me saying this, but all you did for me was positively good” Crowley wrinkled his nose slightly but did not object “if not…sweet.” Aziraphale lifted up the book “Why?”  
Crowley sighed and shook his head “Oh Angel…if you truly can’t figure it out...well, I guess, have a nice breakfast and I’ll see you…when I see you” and he slinked towards the door

Aziraphale stood for a moment, dumbfounded, book still in his hand, when the memory hit him and he realised:  
“You..you rewrote that poem for me” he nearly shouted  
“Tsssssssssssss” Crowley hissed from the door “or maybe it was the other way around and the lusty Lord stole it from me, but who would ever believe..”  
“You…YOU wrote that for ME?” Aziraphale gasped and took two steps down the stairs and stared at Crowley, who looked at the floor in answer  
“Take your glasses off” the Angel demanded. “What?” Crowley hissed  
“Take.your.Glasses.off!” Aziraphale demanded, and his voice was as high-pitched and nervous as it had been during the Nopocalypse. When Crowley didn’t react, Aziraphale simply waved his hand and they were gone.  
Crowley’s black and yellow eyes were still downcast, and, to the Angels shock, full of fear

“I was always told demons were incapable of love” Aziraphale whispered, full of guilt and revery.  
“Ha!” Crowley laughed mirthlessly, finally looking up, black tears streaming down his face “I believe there was a lot of things the both of us have been told that have never been quite true. But this? How could you ever believe that I didn’t…” here, his words failed him  
There was nothing for it. Neither Heaven nor Hell could have stopped him at that moment, he rushed over and held his demon, his Crowley, his lover, as tight as he could, and while he felt the heavy teardrops on his neck and shoulders, he felt his falling as well and whispered “My dear, oh my dear, I am so sorry I should have realised! Oh my darling, please look at me”

And, at last, he did, his yellow eyes rimmed with red and sorrow, he did

“I love you” Aziraphale said, holding his face in his hands, at last feeling like he could, like nothing could stop him, them anymore “God knows I do, and I’m not even sure I mean this metaphorically anymore, but I couldn’t care less”  
Crowley gave him a watery smile  
“I love you. You have always been there for me, for better or worse – isn’t that the expression?” Crowley groaned and rolled his eyes  
“Oh shush you! I am sorry I was so slow on the uptake, but after last night…and I mean…we faced the end of the earth together..so..so..Heaven and Hell can..can..” and Aziraphale took a deep breath “go FUCK THEMSELVES!”

Crowley blinked and then laughed, tearily, at the angel who stood there, breathing heavily, as if he was waiting for either side to strike him dead  
“Aziraphale” he said, raspily, wiping the tears away “that was…quite something, and, to be frank, more than I expected for a bit of breakfast. I mean, to be fair, it only took you 6000 years and the flu, but if that’s what it takes, I’d be willing to do it all over again, my Angel”  
“six…sixthousand…are you saying that you felt like this for…” Aziraphale stood, eyes wide  
Crowley waved “Pathetic, I know. But as I said: You caught on at last. So, can we skip the speech now and…”  
But the Angel was one ahead of him and pulled Crowley towards him with a vigour the demon had never anticipated. He fell onto the Angel’s chest, their lips collided, Aziraphale had his hands in Crowley’s hair and gave him the kiss he waited for for 6000 years. And boy, was it worth waiting for!

PS: That Crowley caught the Flu shortly afterwards was only a minor inconvenience, despite him being the neediest patience ever known to the whole Universe. He made Aziraphale close down his bookshop and stay with him in bed all day and all night until he got better, which took a full two weeks.  
He needed warmth, what with being a snake originally, and all. Strictly for medical reasons, obviously.  
His angel simply smiled and snuggled closer


End file.
